Every Day Thoughts February
by MissJayne
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the friendships between our favourite characters.
1. Feb 1

_A/N:_ _For Intro, please see Every Day Thoughts January._

Every Day Thoughts: February

_**Feb 1**_

**Friendship is the perfection of love. – Proverb**

Jenny glanced at the coffee which had mysteriously appeared on her desk. She had only popped out of her office and into MTAC for two minutes, leaving her intruder a narrow window. Cynthia had not seen anyone pass, and was quite insistent. It left her with one suspect.

Gibbs.

Quite why he would leave her a coffee today of all days bemused her, but she did not dwell on it long. Presumably he had noticed her overflowing inbox when he was ranting and raving the previous day, and decided to bribe her with caffeine.

She did not plan to pass him up either. Taking a long, deep, satisfying gulp, she realized it was her favorite coffee. Smiling softly, she attached the pile of papers with renewed vigor.

As she had predicted, he appeared before the morning was over, barging into her office. She had only recently finished her coffee, and was pleased to receive another one.

He seemed amused by her desire for caffeine, and did not try to hide it. She decided to ignore her most pressing question, and deal with another one instead.

"Something I can help you with, Jethro?" she inquired.

"How much coffee have you had today?" he questioned, completely ignoring her previous query.

She blinked, but answered. "Only the one you bought me. Is there a particular reason you've suddenly become concerned about my caffeine consumption?"

He walked out immediately. Baffled, she took another sip of her coffee. Strange man. She would never understand him fully. But she didn't need to, as he clearly understood her.


	2. Feb 2

_**Feb 2**_

**If life has introduced you to even one person you can call a true friend, you are truly blessed.**

Tim glanced across at Abby as they worked together. It was an easy job, but Gibbs wanted results fast, so Tim had found himself dispatched to the lab to speed things up a little.

They had spent most of their time chattering away as though they had not seen each other for years, even though it had only been a few hours. The computer program was working its magic and could not be rushed, just like Abby's analyses. So they laughed, giggled, teased, and shared secrets.

Abby had owned up to a childhood phobia of clowns, so Tim had declared his young fear of basketballs, and gone into great detail, much to the Goth's delight. Then had come the debate on the best flavor of Jell-O. That had spiraled into a discussion on the relative merits of Mini Coopers. Neither was aware of how or why the topics changed, but they did.

The computer beeped, although neither of them recognized it. They were caught up in their own world, oblivious to everything but each other. They were embroiled in a race to see who could hack into the Pentagon quicker.

Tim cheered as the elevator dinged. Fast as lightning, their feet were back on earth, and they whirled guiltily to see who it was.

Ducky was smiling as he entered the lab. "Everything okay up here?" he queried.


	3. Feb 3

_**Feb 3 - Kat's birthday**_

**It is not what we say or sing,  
****That keeps our charm so long unbroken,  
****Though every lightest leaf we bring  
****May touch the heart as friendship's token. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, "Our Oldest Friend"**

"Berry Mango Madness?"

Ziva looked up suspiciously at her partner. This was not normal, and thus there must be a latch. Or was it catch? Tony DiNozzo did not appear at her desk in the middle of the day, offering her favorite drink. Either she was dreaming, or he was up to something.

She pinched herself surreptitiously. That hurt, ergo her irrepressible partner was playing a trick. It would not work now; she had figured it out and could take evasive action. She just had to work out what he had done to it…

"For me?" she checked, feigning ignorance.

"Well, no, Ziva," he retorted, still holding the cup out. "There's someone else in this squad room who enjoys drinking your swill."

She glared at him. "It is very nice, if you must know," she replied, letting one eye drift to the drink. "What have you done to it?" The direct approach often worked on Tony.

He looked momentarily confused and hurt. "Nothing," he protested. "You looked tired, and I thought you might like one of your drinks."

She decided to let the 'tired' comment pass; she did feel tired and it was a nice gesture. "Thank you," she told him, deftly relieving him of it.

He smiled as he returned to his seat, while she took a few sips. She would get him a coffee later, when he appeared tired.


	4. Feb 4

_**Feb 4**_

**Courtesy and a tolerant, uncritical awareness of others will immediately reward you with a warm response from friends, family, and even strangers.**

Abby beamed as a new face appeared in her lab. Agent Thompson had recently graduated from FLETC and had been placed on Agent Wofford's team. It was the first time the young probie had been sent down to the lab.

This did not bother the Goth. New people arrived all the time, and they all needed to know who she was, where she was, and what she did. Anyway, she enjoyed meeting new people. Strangers were merely friends she had not met before.

Agent Thompson seemed rather nervous, so Abby beckoned her in. "Don't worry," she announced cheerily. "I don't bite."

She bounced between her machines, explaining briefly what each one did and how it could help. She offered her Caf-Pow and was politely refused. She showed off Major Mass Spec and Bert. Agent Thompson definitely seemed to like the hippo.

After a good half an hour, the new agent disappeared upstairs, leaving Abby smiling to herself in an empty lab. Another convert. A new friend. If her gut was right – it was admittedly nowhere near as impressive as Gibbs' was – Agent Thompson was going to rise very highly indeed.


	5. Feb 5

_**Feb 5**_

**Friends see only the stars in your eyes (and never the wrinkles around them).**

Palmer tried to focus on the body in front of him. It was surprisingly difficult to tune out Agent Gibbs' team and focus on his own job. Ducky had called earlier to apologize. Apparently his mother's nurse had yet to show up, and he was loath to leave her alone.

This did not worry Palmer; he completely understood. He could only hope that the errant nurse appeared soon, or he was likely to spend the rest of the day babysitting Mrs. Mallard.

If 'babysitting' was the right word to apply to a woman in her nineties.

He liked his mentor. Ducky had a lot of experience in his field, and he gladly shared it. He was always willing to answer questions and pose problems, extending his learning. He treated his assistant as an equal, not a subordinate.

Ducky had seen just about everything, and was always willing to share it. There was no prompting required, no begging or prying. He offered it up to the younger generation without a second thought.

Palmer hoped that one day, in the very distant future, he too would have an assistant and would be as good as his mentor.

Although he wanted to be married by then as well.


	6. Feb 6

_**Feb 6**_

**A ho-hum activity that's really fun when done with a good friend: a home improvement project.**

"What's the emergency?" Gibbs asked as the redhead flung open her front door.

Jenny looked more frazzled than she had in a long time. "Thanks goodness you're here," she exclaimed, grabbing his arm and pulling him into her house. "In the study."

He was puzzled. What was going on? Why was she so frantic? It wasn't like her. Unless…

"If this is another spider," he teased.

She scowled, clearly recalling the last spider that had disturbed her work at 0300 and the resulting phone call. "No spider," she promised, entering the room and pointing to a pile of wood on the floor. "Shelves."

"You called me to put up shelves?!" he spluttered. "Who usually does DIY things for you?"

"Noemi has a friend, but he's on vacation," she replied smoothly. "I have no idea what to do. You're the expert, and I'm willing to supply you with both coffee and bourbon."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he warned, secretly pleased at her praise. She always knew which buttons to push. "I presume I'm going to be fed for my troubles as well?"

"Chinese," she offered. "I'm guessing you don't want my cooking."

"I can live without it," he admitted, judging the job at hand. An hour at the most. But stretching it out could be a lot of fun…


	7. Feb 7

_**Feb 7**_

**Friendships, like gardens, must be nourished and cultivated if they are to flourish and thrive. Take time to pull the weeds, turn the soil, and plant new seed. Then enjoy the beauty of this love you have created.**

"Why are we here again?" Ziva groaned, trying to figure out how to remove a plant from a pot.

"Because it's fun!" Abby explained. "What could be more exciting than helping to maintain the garden for the kids in the hospice?"

Ziva considered. "I accept that this needs to be done, but surely they could persuade some professional gardeners to do this. I was made to kill, not create life. I could be sharpening my knife collection now."

The Goth tutted, snatching the plant pot from Ziva's hands and upending it, causing the plant to fall out quickly. "You need to get out more," she admonished. "See more life instead of death."

"These children are dying slowly," Ziva argued. "How is that life-affirming?"

"We are making their last days happy ones," Abby defended. "It might be a little upsetting, but it makes you grow as a person. It makes you stronger."

Ziva planted the flower carefully, before pulling another one towards her. "I did not see you doing something like this," she confessed.

"Why?"

"It is not cheerful enough for you," the Israeli mused. "It is depressing."

"But fun!" Abby exclaimed.

Ziva smiled softly. The Goth's enthusiasm was infectious. And she did not need to know about what she usually did on her weekends off…


	8. Feb 8

_**Feb 8**_

**The most I can do for my friend is simply to be his friend. – Henry David Thoreau, **_**Journal: Winter**_

Tim kept his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him. He could do this. He _would _do this. Just because he had been unsuccessful for the better part of a day did not mean he was going to concede defeat!

Somehow, the case had become intrinsically entwined with the NSA, and the spooks did not want to share anything, or even acknowledge another federal agency. With Gibbs putting pressure on the Director to pull off a miracle, Tim had decided that the easiest way of resolving this was to hack into the NSA files.

He had not been counting on the levels of security he had been forced to deal with. Abby had initially been assisting him, but her cold had worsened and Gibbs had ordered her home before she infected everyone. The going was slower and harder, but Tim preferred the Goth at home; she had been overdosing on caffeine in an attempt to stay awake, and had been a nightmare to work with. That, and he wanted her to recover as well.

Someone cleared their throat in front of his, and Tim found himself looking into a pair of blue eyes.

"Go home," Gibbs ordered calmly. "Come back in the morning when you've had some sleep."

Exhausted, Tim was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He shut down his computer and left. He would crack it tomorrow…


	9. Feb 9

_**Feb 9**_

**A friend is a second self. – Marcus Tullius Cicero**

Tony grinned as he allowed Ducky to ramble. There was nothing urgent about their current case. He would go as far to say there was nothing important about it, but Gibbs seemed psychic and would head-slap him into next week if he thought his Senior Field Agent was not taking things seriously.

Ducky always took things seriously. They were not alike in that manner; Tony only coped by viewing things in a very different light. Humor was a wonderful tool; something which Ducky understood, although he didn't always appreciate it.

But rambling – they were both good at rambling. With Duck, it was a little more obvious. The elderly man happily rambled away, whether it was to himself or his corpses. Yet Tony was happy to ramble as well. He usually talked about movies and women, but the difference in subject matter did not change anything.

Gibbs was aware of both of his rambling colleagues, but dealt with them in different ways. Ducky was normally cut off sharply, but in a somewhat friendly manner. But Tony found himself glared at or head-slapped. He did not dislike this, knowing it was a better method for dealing with himself.

Tony suddenly realized that Ducky had ground to a halt and pulled himself together rapidly. If he wanted to leave tonight, he needed to pry a cause of death out of the medical examiner.


	10. Feb 10

_**Feb 10**_

**I would give more for the private esteem and love of one than for the public praise of ten thousand. – W. R. Alger**

Gibbs sat in Tony's chair and stared at the contents of the drawer. His medals.

He didn't care about them. They meant nothing to him. They were a sign of loyalty and devotion to his country, which did not need rewarding. He had only been doing his job, and doing it for others, not himself.

Tony seemed to think that he should be proud of the medals and what they stood for. But things were different. Few things in the world today rewarded courage; most involved people patting themselves on the back.

And yet he did not feel worthy of his rewards. He knew braver men; men who had sacrificed themselves to save others, men who had gone unrewarded. The unsung heroes should receive the praise that meant nothing to him.

Gibbs ran his fingers across the case of a medal, lost in thought. He was not even sure what he had won half of them for; they all blurred together in his mind. Rubbing his eyes, he closed the drawer, leaving everything once again in the capable hands of DiNozzo.


	11. Feb 11

_**Feb 11**_

**Friends Activity: Too often our busy worlds leave our creativity buried and forgotten. Celebrate your creativity together and carve out a little time for the two of you. Sign up for an art class and unleash your inner artists!**

"No!" Tim objected. There was no way he was going. This was insane. This was more than insane – this was obviously a Tony plan.

"I've already signed you up," Tony countered smoothly. "You'll enjoy it; you're creative."

"I'm a writer," Tim pointed out. "Not an artist. I can't draw, I hate drawing and I'm rubbish at it."

"Maybe you just need some practice," Tony suggested, nonplussed. "Get away from the typewriter for an evening, leave the confines of the Navy Yard and your bachelor pad, and come with me! It's only an art class after all."

Tim scowled. He couldn't come up with any particularly convincing argument against the idea other than he didn't want to go. Tony was highly persuasive, and was capable of dragging him to this place if necessary.

"Promise me that this will not involve naked women," he decided. He would not live it down if there were any, and it would be very like Tony.

"Not this week, McScaredypants," Tony retorted. "I know you've never seen a naked lady before, but we should ease you into it. There's a great lap dancing club I've heard of –"

"You've been."

"Actually I haven't. But I think Ziva and I should stage an intervention and force you into the place."

Tim gave a ghost of a smile. "Art class first. And Ziva won't force me to go anywhere against my will."


	12. Feb 12

_**Feb 12**_

**Promises may get friends, but it is performance that must nurse and keep them. – Owen Feltham**

Secrets. Ziva David had learnt to keep them and live with them since she could talk. Her world revolved around them, and she could not remember a time when she had not known them.

Her eyes always paused when they reached Leroy Jethro Gibbs, just for a moment. Whenever she saw his face, she remembered their secret and the promise of silence that bound them. She had killed Ari, not him; yet he had been prepared to protect her from the start.

Sometimes she saw him as a better version of her father. Of course he could be dark and obsessed at times, but everyone had flaws. And he did care about her, in his own way. Whatever she did, he never mentioned her secret, never hinted at it, never attempted to blackmail her with it.

In the beginning, she had been keeping his secret as well, the secret of Shannon and Kelly. When that had come out and Gibbs had lost his memory, she had been concerned that he might slip up, whether deliberately or inadvertently. But their secret had held.

His eyes caught her gaze and a flash of understanding passed between them. Neither would ever breathe the truth to anyone.


	13. Feb 13

_**Feb 13**_

**Poor is the friendless master of the world. – Edward Young**

From her spot on the catwalk, Jenny let her eyes pass over Gibbs' team. They were laughing about something, something that she could not hear. Tony and Ziva were lurking around McGee's desk, while Gibbs had just returned from a coffee run.

Tony: the life and soul of the party. He got along with just about everyone, in his own way. He might hide behind his masks, but he was intelligent and smart, and longed to be accepted.

Ziva: the assassin. Had dedicated her life to her art, but was slowly learning how to live her life. Her determination and passion won her as many admirers as it did enemies. Never happy unless she had put all her effort into a job.

McGee: the computer expert. A specialist in his field, beloved by all who met him. He always stuck up for what he believed in, even in the face of his teammates. Perhaps more the outsider than the others.

And finally, Gibbs. In charge of this strange group. More a listener than a talker, and cared for his team in the ways they needed him to. He was the glue to bind everything together.

She sighed softly to herself. As the old saying went, she had made her bed and now had to sleep in it.


	14. Feb 14

_**Feb 14**_

**Friendship is Love, without his wings! – Lord Byron**

Abby bounced along to the music in her lab. It was loud and wonderful. It still had the new CD feel about it, making her more excited.

There was something special about today, something that she couldn't quite place. She felt on top of the world and nothing was capable of bringing her back down to earth. Everything was going to be wonderful.

The elevator dinged, and she did not bother to turn around; she knew who it was. "Hi, Gibbs," she called. "I haven't got the results back yet, but that's only because Major Mass Spec had a little hissy fit first thing this morning, and luckily he's decided to recover and play along, although he did leave me with a bit of a backlog which is why I haven't finished yet. Why aren't you talking to me?"

She whirled around to find herself face to face with Tony. "Oops," she muttered.

"I can tell him what you just told me," Tony grinned. "Although I will cut it down a little bit."

She hugged him tightly. "I love you Tony! Like I love puppies, which are so cute!"

"Are you calling me cute?" he queried.

She smiled. "Depends. Now, scram! Gibbs will want his report soon."

She watched as Tony left. She always enjoyed it when she had a visitor, and Tony was a special friend.


	15. Feb 15

_**Feb 15**_

**The world's greatest treasure is the small, simple pleasure of spending our time with good friends. Amidst laughter and tears we are bound through the years by a loyalty that never ends.**

Tony laughed as he leant back in his chair. They had been dealing with a complicated case for the last week, and it was finally over after Gibbs had just cracked their main suspect in Interrogation. And right in time for the weekend as well…

Ziva slammed a knife into her desk to express her pleasure, while the Probie laughed at something on his computer screen. Tony realized they all needed a good release after all the hard work they had put in over the last week. He glanced around at their tired and tense faces, and came to a decision.

"Any plans for tonight?" he asked, fully expecting the shakes of the head he got form both of them. He reached for the phone, and told Ducky and Abby to meet them upstairs in five minutes.

When everyone had gathered, he made his announcement. "We're going to see a movie," he proclaimed. "There's a couple of good ones on tonight, and we can decide between us like adults."

"Not Bond," Ziva ordered, fingering one of her knives.

Tony gulped. "Not Bond then. But we're going anyway."

"What about Gibbs?" Abby piped up.

"He'll shoot everyone in the theatre," Tony argued. "He'll calm down in his own time, especially if we leave him with the boss' boss."

"Good point," McGee conceded. "So, who's paying?"

Jenny and Gibbs chuckled as they looked down on the squad room for their position on the catwalk. Everyone would be fine, as long as they could agree on a movie…


	16. Feb 16

_**Feb 16**_

**A true friend stands on the sidelines of your life, proudly cheering you on as you win each of life's battles.**

"Doctor," Palmer panted, out of breath as he ran into Autopsy. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

"Do not worry, Mr. Palmer," Ducky called, elbows deep in a cadaver's chest. "I can be my own assistant, for a morning at least."

"I overslept," Palmer defended. "I will set a third alarm clock next time; I have no idea how I managed to sleep through two… wait a minute. You're not mad at me?" He felt confused; he had been sure he would have been in some sort of trouble over his incredibly late appearance.

"You had a very important exam last night," Ducky answered. "I know how hard you have been studying for it, and how much stress you have been putting yourself under. I deduced that you had collapsed in bed afterwards and needed the time to recover. I was planning on sending Abigail by, just to check you were still alive, if you hadn't appeared in the next few hours."

Palmer was still lost. "But surely my work here is more important?" he argued.

"Your studies should come first," Ducky countered, waving a bloody scalpel around. "You are still training to be a medical examiner, and your exams are still necessary. You could have all the practical experience in the world, but it would mean nothing if you failed your exams."

Palmer nodded, understanding what his mentor was saying. "I'll just get changed," he offered. "I'll help you in a few minutes."

Ducky smiled as his protégé left the room. That young man would make a fine medical examiner one of these days…


	17. Feb 17

_A/N: Away from computer for a few days. Updates should still go up, but will be at odd times, and review replies will be slow._

_**Feb 17**_

**Pleasure is the business of friendship.**

"Chocolate."

"Weapons."

"Caf-Pows."

"Books."

"My work."

"Taunting Tony."

Abby stared at Ziva. "You find taunting Tony to be pleasurable?"

"It is fun," Ziva defended. "It is fun and amusing."

The Goth considered this. "I suppose it is. Could I count harassing McGee then?"

"How about harassing any male?" Ziva wondered.

"Not Gibbs," Abby declared. "Although it might be pleasurable to harass him, but no one could survive it."

"You would. You are the favorite; he would forgive you anything."

Abby looked horrified. "I'm only the favorite because I'm not stupid enough to anger him," she pointed out. "If I acted like the rest of you, I would no longer be the favorite."

Ziva took her time to think about this. "But you are the favorite regardless. Even when you mess up, he forgives you in an instant."

"But I rarely screw up!"

"Can we get back to our original topic?" the Israeli tried. "Things we find pleasurable. I enjoy sudokus."

"Me too!" Abby bounced up and down. "And crosswords!"

The lab was filled with resounding laughter.


	18. Feb 18

_**Feb 18**_

**We have been friends together in sunshine and in shade. – Caroline Norton, "We Have Been Friends Together"**

Jenny grinned as she dragged Gibbs across the beach. How could he be so miserable? This had been his idea anyway.

He had appeared in her office the previous day, pointing out that she looked pale and ill. Accusing her of hiding inside during daylight hours, he had argued that she needed to get out more, and preferably somewhere sunny. In his rant, he had mentioned she could get on a plane and spend the weekend away from DC. She had not have to stay out of contact; she could always return quickly if there was an emergency.

She had been hooked on the idea, but insisted he accompany her. He could do with some time away from his basement, and she would need some sort of a protection detail. This had led to Abby booking two tickets on a plane to Miami, and her dragging him along the beach.

He had spent the morning whining about the sand, before moving on to the heat and humidity. She had chuckled every time; if only his team could see this!

She stopped in front of an ice cream vendor and raised an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes, but dug out his money and proceeded to purchase something for her and a little something for himself as well. She giggled as his began to lose little drops everywhere and he struggled to stay on top of them.

By the time they returned to DC, they were both relaxed and a little bit tanned. And somehow, they were still friends.


	19. Feb 19

_A/N: Sorry for the late update! However, I'm now back with my precious computer._

_**Feb 19**_

**I'd like a little money.  
****I'd like a little ease.  
****But a friendship that is faithful  
****Can outweigh both of these.**

"Come on!" Abby encouraged as she pulled her slightly unwilling victim into the next clothes shop.

McGee had confessed that he was due to give a talk to a book club at Waverly College in two days time. Apparently, a large number of eligible females wanted to meet the famous Thom E. Gemcity and ask a myriad of questions about Rock Hollow. McGee, being McGee, was not taking this seriously enough in Abby's opinion.

He did not seem to realize that college girls tended to discuss books, and a good recommendation would spread around the campus like wildfire, generating even more sales. And if he went in the stuffy suit he insisted on wearing, he would fail miserably. Thus, to help him out, she had bought him shopping.

"Casual clothes," she reminded him, pointing him in the direction of a rack that matched her description. "Remember, money is no object."

He obeyed, searching through the items on offer. "There's no point in spending too much," he countered. "It's not that important."

"It is important," Abby retorted. "You are selling lots of copies of your sequel, which is yet again based on us, but you can never sell enough. Even if every person on the planet buys one, their copies could be damaged or lost and they would have to buy another one!"

McGee smiled. "It's lovely that you're looking out for me, but is there a less proactive way you could go about it?"

The Goth ignored him, pouncing on an outfit instead. "That would be perfect for you," she squealed.

He looked at it, before pulling her into a quick hug. "You're a star," he thanked her, reaching for his wallet.


	20. Feb 20

_**Feb 20**_

**There were never such friends as these two became. Somehow, they seemed to suit each other in a wonderful way. – Frances Hodgson Burnett, **_**A Little Princess**_

From the catwalk, Gibbs observed Ziva and Tony as they continued their antics. It had started with a paper airplane war, and quickly spiraled into a rubber band one. Luckily, McGee had been out of the squad room, keeping him out of the crossfire.

His two agents were different, but somehow alike. On the surface, they were polar opposites; Tony was into girls and movies, while Ziva was into weapons and martial arts. They constantly bickered and teased and fought, and they played pranks on the other. They threw things around, and believed in very different things.

And yet they were alike. They were happy to team up to take on McGee. They fought for justice. They had similar senses of humor, and a love for fast cars. They reveled in their jobs and were comfortable in their own skins. They danced around their feelings for the other; each oblivious to the tension but keeping Rule 12 in mind.

He smiled softly. They reminded him of a time eight years in the past, when he had been travelling around Europe with a certain redheaded partner. He could see history about to repeat itself, and hoped it would end better for them.


	21. Feb 21

_**Feb 21**_

**Friendships multiply joys and divide griefs. – Proverb**

Gibbs barged into Jenny's office in his usual manner, but stopped short at the sight which greeted him.

Jenny sat behind her desk, piles of paperwork in front of her, and yet she was crying. It was very soft, and he doubted she even realized it. She certainly did not realize that she had a visitor or she would have ordered him out by now.

The office was fairly dark; most people had gone home already. But he and Jenny seemed to keep very different hours to everyone else. They each lived for their jobs and let little else affect them. But something was clearly affecting her now.

He moved closer, silently. She jumped the moment she recognized his presence, ignoring the tears and attempting to return to her paperwork.

"Hey," he whispered.

Even in the dim light, he could see her glare clearly. "Is this urgent, Agent Gibbs?" she inquired, her professional mask in place.

"Maybe." He kept his answer enigmatic as he finally reached her and spun her chair around. "What's wrong?"

"Dust particles in the air," she replied, her right eye twitching. She was not making this easy on either of them.

He did not bother to say anything, merely pulled her out of her chair instead. She looked mildly bemused for a brief moment, but the sorrow returned to her emerald eyes again.

She sighed, realizing he would not leave until she told him. "My best friend. We grew up together, she moved to California after college. I just got a call…" She fought to control her voice. "She, erm, she was in a car accident this morning and died."

Gibbs pulled her into a tight hug. She would never ask for comfort, but she clearly needed it right now. He felt her struggle with her emotions before she began to cry. He held her until she relaxed.

"Come back to mine," he offered, his voice low. "Let me look after you tonight."

She was too tired to disagree, and allowed him to tug her out of her office. Her work would still be there tomorrow, but tonight she needed company.


	22. Feb 22

_**Feb 22**_

**Value your friendship as your bank account; take care to deposit more than you withdraw.**

"McGee."

Tim looked up at the unfamiliarly nervous voice of Ziva. She stood next to his desk, her hands clasped behind her back, looking very uncomfortable.

This was not a normal occurrence. In fact, Tim had never seen Ziva looking so lost and afraid. In the field, she was a formidable opponent, who terrified the enemy and happily took them down. Now, she appeared to be in need of one of Abby's famous hugs to cure all ills.

"Ziva," he replied, confused.

She shifted her weight slightly. "I have a little problem," she admitted.

"Is your computer playing up again?" he queried. "Because you need to reset your LAN setting every five days on your terminal, but I can do it for you if necessary."

"It is not a computer problem," she told him.

"Okay, then what is it?"

She shuffled again. "There has been a mix up with my salary this month. They deducted the money from my account rather than paying me. I have talked with them and they say it will be three days before they can sort it out."

"You want to borrow a little money," Tim deduced.

"I cannot ask Tony because I would never hear the end of it," Ziva confessed. "Abby would worry, Gibbs is already paying his ex-wives through the nose, Ducky would insist I never pay him back, and Jenny would scream at the person who made this mistake."

Tim smiled. "How much do you need?"


	23. Feb 23

_**Feb 23**_

**Visiting with old friends is like rereading favorite books. Though you know the stories by heart, you are compelled to turn the pages again and again, reliving the precious memories one more time.**

Ducky smiled across the table at his old Scottish friend. He had not seen him in years, although they had grown up together and followed remarkably similar paths in their lives. A pathologist's conference was the latest place for them to run into each other.

It felt strange seeing Kenneth again, Ducky mused. While he himself had gone into a law enforcement role, his friend had become a lecturer at Eton. And yet, despite their career paths, they somehow managed to see one another on a regular basis. Their friendship had never wavered nor faltered nor any other term Ducky could think of.

"So there I was," Kenneth continued. "In my pajamas, holding a lecture, and none of the students noticed!"

Ducky chuckled. "I'm sure you've told me that one before, but I never tire of it. Did I ever tell you about the time I had to pose as an arms seller?"

"Only a hundred times," Kenneth laughed. "And you hated that moustache."

"It did not suit me," Ducky complained.

"You grew one during medical school!" Kenneth grinned. "It suited you then."

"I don't know what drove me to do such a thing."

"There was a girl involved!"

Around them, people smiled softly, glad that the two friends were catching up.


	24. Feb 24

_**Feb 24**_

**For friendship is nothing else than a harmony of opinion on all things human and divine. – Marcus Tullius Cicero, "Essay on Friendship"**

"I want to kill him!" Ziva exclaimed as she stormed into the Director's office.

Jenny was hardly surprised at this mysterious appearance. Sure, it was normally Gibbs who barged in without warning, but Ziva threatening to kill someone was not a new phenomenon. She sighed, put down her pen and removed her reading glasses.

"How can I help?" she inquired, moving around her desk to the conference table. She doubted this was going to be a normal boss/subordinate discussion, and chose to make it more informal instead.

"If he continues, I will have no choice but to relieve him of his testicles," Ziva hissed, slumping into the nearest chair and glaring at the floor. Her whole body language screamed her frustration.

"Could you give me a clue as to who has been stupid enough to cross you?" Jenny asked, determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Tony," the Israeli growled.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I should have guessed," she muttered.

Ziva giggled softly, some of the tension leaving her. "I caught him going through my desk again," she admitted. "I have warned him enough times, but he does not seem to notice."

"I agree that Tony can be a little… juvenile, but that does not mean you should resort to violence. I am the only one allowed to kill employees around here. Perhaps you should get him back."

Ziva looked at her curiously. "Are you saying that as the Director or Jenny?"

The redhead chuckled. "Definitely Jenny. You would not warn the Director about your desire to kill him."

Ziva smiled.

"Tony is a pain sometimes, I know, but killing him would be a waste of energy. I would not object if you tortured him. However, I should point out that torturing him mentally can be more fun than physical torture."

Ziva took her time to think about it. "I might have a few pranks I could use," she confessed. "How much do you remember about cars?"

"If you are referring to Cairo, I could do the same thing to Tony's car," Jenny grinned.

The two of them began to giggle. Tony wasn't going to know what had hit him.


	25. Feb 25

_**Feb 25**_

**Sometimes the best medicine is a friend's voice on the phone.**

Tim stared at the phone in his hand. He felt awful; his nose was running everywhere, his throat felt like sandpaper, his eyes were sore, and his head was in a vice.

To make matters worse, Tony had given him this cold. And he had not been affected anywhere near this much. At least it was the weekend so he wouldn't have to put up with Tony's mocking and Ziva's eye rolling, while Gibbs ordered him home to bed or down to Ducky.

He blew his nose loudly in an attempt to allow himself to breathe. This was too much. He dialed the number of the one person who could make him feel better.

"Hello, Radio Abby, you're on the air!" The Goth's voice came through loud and clear.

"Hey, Abby," he greeted her.

"Timmy! You don't sound so good. Well, you sound good, but you also sound ill, which is not a good thing. I'm guessing you caught Tony's cold then, which is unfair because he was still bouncing around my lab yesterday, and he almost knocked over that experiment that I'm running, and I couldn't exactly tell him what I was running because I'll never hear the end of it, and he wouldn't understand the finer points anyway, philistine that he is, not that I think he's really a philistine because he is really smart when he wants to be, and he's really nice as well, and why aren't you interrupting me? Oh no, you've called me because you're dying and you want me to send Ducky round to do the Autopsy, but you've actually died and I'm talking to myself, and –"

Tim began to laugh. It was so typical of Abby, and made him feel so much better.

"Are you okay?" Abby worried.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Want me to come round?" she asked.

"You've made me feel better anyway," he told her honestly. "I don't want to ruin your day."

"I'm coming over," Abby decided. "You are not going to talk me out of this."

Tim smiled as she hung up the phone. Only Abby…


	26. Feb 26

_**Feb 26**_

**A Father's a Treasure; a Brother's a Comfort; a Friend is both. – Benjamin Franklin, **_**Poor Richard's Almanack**_

Tony struggled to keep his eyes open after a long day, and he wanted nothing more than to go home and get drunk.

He gave up his fight and looked over to Gibbs, his father figure. The boss looked after him, pushed him when he needed to be pushed, and was generally just there for him. He actually gave a damn about him, unlike this own father. As though he knew he was being observed, Gibbs glanced up at his senior field agent.

"Go home, DiNozzo," he ordered.

Tony was no longer surprised that his boss could read him so well. "Okay," he replied.

Gibbs stood up and walked to the elevator, presumably to get his caffeine fix. Tony let him go as he glanced over to McGee.

The Probie was like a younger brother to him; someone he could tease and prank, but still care for in his own way. McGee was the geek, the smart one, only challenged by Abby. He was far too caring for his own good, and somehow still a little innocent.

He blinked as he realized that McGee was standing in front of his desk. "What?" he growled.

"You're certainly fine," McGee quipped. He rested a hand on his shoulder. "Everything will be fine."

Tony shrugged him off. "I don't need your cooties," he responded. But he felt a bit better. McGee walked back to his desk, shaking his head. Tony grabbed his bag and walked to the elevator.

As the doors started to close, Ziva slipped in between them. "Someone shot at you," she answered his unspoken question. "I will stay with you tonight; you should not be alone."

He smiled. His friends all knew how to help him in their own ways.


	27. Feb 27

_**Feb 27**_

**When our lives get overloaded, one of the first things we cut back is the time we spend with friends. But it is these very relationships that can center us, ease our stress, and remind us of our true priorities.**

Jenny threw another folder into one of her 'out' piles, and rubbed her eyes. She leant back in her chair, wishing she was anywhere but here. Hawaii sounded nice. Or the Bahamas. Somewhere warm, with absolutely no paperwork.

Although knowing her job, even if she died, someone would stand over her coffin and demand her signature on something.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been home. The performance evaluations had appeared on her desk a week ago, every one at once. She had spent her every waking moment since then at work, trying desperately to make a dent in the piles. Cynthia had been constantly bringing coffee and the odd sandwich, and was hard at work herself rearranging all her appointments so she could be left in peace.

More like pieces. She had a constant headache and was starting to have problems seeing straight. She needed hot food, a long shower, and an even longer sleep.

The door crashed open and she winced. Gibbs barged into her office in his usual manner, not even glancing at her as he moved over to her coffee table and started laying things out. She smelt Chinese, and realized just how hungry she really was. Her stomach growled, and throwing a final despairing glance at her paperwork, she slipped her heels on and crossed the room.

He did not look up at her as he continued to separate his food from hers. She settled on the couch, kicking her heels off to rest her feet once again. He offered her a pair of chopsticks, which she gratefully accepted as he pushed her food in her direction.

They ate in comfortable silence; the only distraction occurring when he poured her a glass of bourbon. When she was finally full, she leant back on the couch and closed her eyes, savoring the peace and calm that had descended.

"I'm taking you home," he informed her.

"Fine," she agreed. She could do some work in her study.

"My home," he warned.

She opened her eyes and glared at him. "I have far too much work to take a night off," she objected.

"You need a break before you collapse," he stated.

She closed her eyes and accepted what he was saying. He knew what was best for her. And he could quite easily carry her out. "Thanks," she whispered.

He smiled back.


	28. Feb 28

_**Feb 28**_

**What a wonderful place the world would be if we thought of each new person we meet as a friend waiting to be discovered.**

Abby smiled as she looked around the conference room. She did not know anyone here, but that added to the fun. A lesser woman would be nervous; the Goth viewed it as a fun challenge.

She started her circle of the room in a clockwise direction. She liked a little order in her life, even if she usually eschewed what other people did. The first people she talked to were discussing the evidential value of ear prints. She found herself caught up in the arguments for either side. Unable to make her mind up, she headed over to the next group.

Everyone in the second group was wearing suits, and she figured them for FBI agents. They were talking about a recent case involving tree DNA. She was able to relate a few cases she had been involved with, which led to a lot of questions. She happily answered all of them while slipping in a few of her own, before heading over to yet another group.

This group was dressed like typical computer geeks. She found herself in a debate about the security of the Pentagon firewall, which she found fascinating. Her mind reminded her of how much McGee would enjoy this, and she asked some questions she felt he would like answers to.

The final group were businessmen, trying to recruit. They were all very nice and friendly, but she turned them down. She loved her current job and the people she worked with. Still, these people challenged her.

Finally, she settled in her seat before the first speaker began. She smiled softly to herself. Everyone here was nice. She was going to enjoy the next few days.


	29. Feb 29

_A/N: The quotes are from a 2008 calendar, so I had to write a Feb 29..._

_**Feb 29**_

**The only way to have a friend is to be one. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship"**

Ducky knew he was running late, but wasn't overly concerned. Mr. Palmer was capable of coping for a few short hours, and he was not as egotistical to believe that the whole agency would grind to a halt if he was not present.

The elevator doors opened and he entered the squad room. Passing by Gibbs' team, he paused. "Good morning," he greeted them cheerily, smiling his greeting.

Ziva smiled back. "Good morning, Ducky. How is your mother?"

"In perfect health," he replied, please to hear her concern and anxious to allay it. "Her nurse was a little late this morning."

"You need a new nurse," McGee suggested helpfully. "That's, what, the third time this month?"

"Mother likes her though, and I am loath to fire her," Ducky answered.

"There comes a point when you just snap," Tony smirked. Ziva glared at him.

"Now, now, children," Ducky soothed, approaching Gibbs' desk and depositing a fresh, warm cup of coffee on it.

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs smiled.

"See you later," he called to the team as he made his way to the back elevator.

He arrived in Autopsy less than a minute later to find Palmer and Abby awaiting his arrival. The Goth launched herself at him, delighted.

"Good morning to you too," he greeted her,

"I hope to get lots of evidence from you later," she beamed, letting go and heading back to her lair.

"Would you like me to start?" Palmer inquired, pointing at the corpse on the table.

"If you would," Ducky replied. "Give me a few minutes and I will join you."


End file.
